Tag: Metro West Detention Centre

METRO WEST 

the tall walls make me uncomfortable as I’m shot from every angle
it’s a kodak moment
an interpersonal feel without a signed consent
my privacy is strangled
I’m just another man sitting guilty until proven innocent
the cage is claustrophobic and my mind has no choice but to ride
along shotgun
he looks for smuggled tobacco to roll a cigarette and asks me “Yo, you got one?”
A simple reply will do as an elongated conversation
seems to always lead to confrontation between me and this man
or the officer manning his station
as I walk the green mile my oversized blue flaps stick to the floor, what
a sorry excuse for a shoe passed down from man to man
god only knows the stories that go with them, the sad stories
originating from prison to prison
I live in a prism, confused as I follow the lines, how did I get to this point,
locked away, throw away the key to my
lips, I don’t think I’ll talk today as I sit in this hole, this empty abyss
the punishment given because I spoke with my fists
born into the wild I once again need to fend for myself
as I did as a child, I’ve walked miles but ended up at the wrong place
angry men in blue feel the need to compensate for their stolen
lunch money, don’t laugh, they have the upper hand
you don’t even have soap for a bath, so you ask yourself
am I still a man?
has this west end place stolen my lunch money, I’m placed in front
of a mirror, faced off with
my masculinity, and fascinated with the man I’m facing
I try to reach through or at least lose my mind
I want to be changing places

(“Metro West” refers to the Metro West Detention Centre in Toronto)



PHYSICAL INTRUSION

my mind is stronger than your muscle
you flex to make your point clear
because your go system is pristine
but the frontal lobe screams stop, in front of the cracked mirror
where you find an empty glass, covered in residue. Things seem illusive
This intrusion knows no barrier, adjacent to muscle
so let’s not try to spread a subliminal message
I am a hypocrite, as I know nothing else but
the compelling thought of advancing my position in this broken mirror
life as I see it
you should expect the same from me, as I lack character
but the difference is, I am equipped, with the sword in the stone
because I am strong with characteristics that shine without tone
what need have we to speak, when a gesture
is often remanded for its curtain call, when the water’s too dark
and you think until your mind sinks too deep
your muscle makes you weak
mine makes me acknowledge your weaknesses –
words are seen by millions
muscle is for minions


THE ONE WHO LEFT HIS MIND AT THE STATION 

20 packs of beer, get ‘em in I’m a crook
spicy cinnamon with an adrenaline strut
a minion in cuffs, shackled hack, I’m corrupt
back to bat with a black kinda rap, okay enough
it stink like the stuff that come up from yer bowels
I spit shit, drop exlax with the vowels
I’m foul, I speak faeces, I need a towel and shout
I rip through with weapons that repent from my mouth
philosophise preaching as knees weaken weekly
dream big, speak Nietzsche
proposing a toast and civil war with myself
ouch!
the mind’s amiss on arrival, it’s ritual
running circles, I’m tribal, habitual
aboriginal, simple-minded, cynical
freddy krueger slasher but I keep it at a minimal
i‘m Trivial, i‘m jeopardy, I got questions
but hold on, criminal record, oops! forgot to mention
I used to kick it old school, it’s david beckham
a little bit of English with a foot in yer rectum


OVERDOSE

Where are you?

Are you where I see you standing, or somewhere else?

Am I here standing next to you, or somewhere else with you?

Am I alone?

Where did you go? I don’t see you there.

Why is my prescription empty?



(The following poem was added to the poet’s obituary in order to allow him to speak “in his own words” at his funeral)

MY MIND BENDS 

the license plate on the back of my head spells trouble
my mind bends
spells spoken to the caves
abducting word skills
from something the world kills
I believe in my own lies, a psychopath in paralysis
diseased with addiction
cavities dance to the pulsing sound of a root canal

Up is nothing more
than an animated feature presentation
Homer as a d-day rather than a replay rarity
hurricanes steep through my kettled mind
I exist in a reign of horror
I’ll make a place on the map just to attract the UN
scissors cut through the vein of ambition
thinking has lost the war
bite the nail I say
using my head to bang nail into coffin